


What it is to trust

by zort



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Chris is ever so slightly melodramatic, Jealousy, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Team Dynamics, like a bit of action just because, team work is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zort/pseuds/zort
Summary: Mick is pissed at Chris. They try to work it out in a practice session which might not have been their brightest idea what with the audience and what the world can come up with in general.
Relationships: Jim Root/Mick Thomson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	What it is to trust

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in 2007 with hybryd0.
> 
> The plotting went something like this : OMG let's write Slipknot with superpowers and have Chris be all angtsy because team is tough and also he can't fuck Jim because of Mick (yeah i realise this is a pattern)
> 
> I kindasorta dimly remember wanting it to have an alternate follow-up where there is happy threesome smut... but sadly it never happened.
> 
> I feel I gotta get back to my (half) regular schedule of posting my old works. Trouble is there are a few i actively wanna rework so here's one that stands nicely as is.

Mick was fuming. As he was making his way to the training-reality room, he had trouble not growling like an angry wolf. Shawn hadn't been impressed at his answers, curt to the point of rudeness, and Mick could still feel the backlash of the telepathic slap he'd received. 

The broad guy didn't want to do the session Shawn had ordered, he could already tell it was a bad idea. He didn't need to work on his bond with Chris, he needed to pound the stupid fucker into the nearest wall until he understood what team-work meant. 

All too fast he was standing in front of the massive metallic door that opened into their environment controlled training room. Of course the idiot wasn't there. Even when there was no emergency he couldn't do things properly

Chris cursed as he realized he was going to be late for his training session with Mick. That wasn't going to go well. Mick hated for anyone to be late. He hurried as quickly as he could, apologizing to Sid when he knocked his friend down. By the time he reached the training room he could just imagine a fuming Mick waiting for him.

Rolling his eyes, Mick watched Chris hurry down the corridor to join him at the door, and because there wasn't much else to do he glowered at the older man. He at least had the satisfaction to see the other guy flinch before the door slid open with an almost silent whisper. 

Not waiting to check with Chris, Mick stalked inside the room, looking up at the spot where he knew, even if he couldn't see them, Shawn if not everyone else, was watching them.

Chris watched Mick for a moment, wondering at Shawn's logic, but a mental nudge from their leader put him in motion. He stepped in after his taller team mate and moved so that he was standing a ways away. He didn't need to be empathic to feel the anger radiating off his team mate. Whatever Shawn's intentions were, a sparring match was not what he was going to get. A show maybe, but no team mate bonding. Chris began to slowly gather ambient energy from the air to prepare himself.

Around them the room was adjusting to the specifications Shawn was feeding into its circuitry, but Mick wasn't paying attention. From the slight change in the ambient air, he knew Chris was getting ready and he was fucked if he was going to let the fucker take him by surprise again. 

With deadly efficiency, he bolted off towards Chris, freeing Shadow at the same time to mimic the motion. A second later, he was standing across Chris, Shadow at right angles from him, but now it was impossible to tell which of them was him.

Chris tensed and flicked his gaze from one to the other. He crouched slightly to better his balance and picked up the speed he was gathering energy. Once his limit was reached he'd be able to handle anything Mick could throw at him, but it was the question of whether Mick was going to play nice and let him power up or not. He doubted it.

Smirking at the futility of Chris's motion, Mick decided to cut the chase and ran up to his team mate again. This time he wasn't trying to blur his traces, he was simply aiming for efficiency, and his powerful fist flew to Chris's face at a satisfyingly dangerous speed.

Using the absorbed energy Chris ducked and rolled away from Mick's attack at an increased speed and at the same time fired a bolt of energy at Mick.

Mick dodged, his grin widening because he hadn't wanted to get into a one-sided fight, but now he was sure Chris would answer. Simultaneously Shadow sprang up behind Chris, kicking his knees from under him.

Chris absorbed the shock of the fall with his shoulders, then used his energy to increase the strength in his arms. With that he used his arms to propel himself up and at Mick feet first.

Given their positions and with the little time at his disposal, Mick did the only thing he could possibly do, even if it meant ten full seconds of complete disorientation, he changed place with Shadow. He couldn't smirk at Chris's surprise when his feet encountered nothing but air, but he was back in control when Shadow brought down his foot down Chris's ankle as heavily as possible. 

There was a sickening crack.

Chris nearly bit through his lip to keep from screaming. Fury bubbled up as he realized Mick was turning the training session into a real fight. Mick was aiming to hurt. Well, two could play that game. He released a burst of blinding light then scrambled to his feet and used all the strength of one leg to lunge at Mick with all his strength behind the punch thrown at his team mate's face.

Mick was disappointed that Chris hadn't screamed, and the light almost got him out of it, but he could still feel Shadow's motions and deduce what they meant. With a loud growl, he dived down and let Chris slam into his shoulder before standing up and using the guy’s speed to throw him to the other side of the room.

Hitting Mick's shoulder had knocked the breath out of him, but he still had enough wits to tuck and roll to his feet, except his hurt ankle caused him to stumble. He caught himself, spun the best he could and crouched with one palm on the floor. He absorbed all the energy he dared to and then used it all to heal his ankle. He knew it was wasting time and energy to do it, but the injury was keeping him from moving like he needed to in order to fight Mick and his shadow.

Getting annoyed with the game of catch and run they were playing, Mick pounced after Chris, landing on top of him as he'd stopped in the middle of trying to get up again. They rolled together and when they stopped he had a solid grab on Chris's shoulders. Shadow started kicking Chris's offered chest and belly, even though he had to be careful not to kick Mick in the process.

Chris slammed his head backwards feeling it connect with Mick's face in a quick succession. When that didn't break the bigger man's hold he grabbed his leg and released what little energy he had left over right into his team mate's leg. 

Shadow however presented a challenge that without energy he just couldn't defeat. Still he tried using both feet to kick while simultaneously shoving all his weight onto Mick's chest.

Muffling a whimper of pain from the raw energy suddenly coursing through his leg, Mick used the way Chris was trying to immobilize him on the floor to shift his hold and get his head in an powerful headlock. Then he started tightening his grip.

"Give up!"

"Fuck you." 

Chris snarled as much he could with Mick trying to choke him out. In a desperate move he did the only thing he could think of that would get Mick to release his hold. He twisted just enough to slam his fist into Mick's crotch. Once released he twisted around so that he was on top and landed a few punishing blows before he scrambled away from Shadow.

Through the haze of pain, Mick wasn't entirely sure what signal he'd sent to Shadow, but when Chris's weight was suddenly lifted off him, he felt a surge of self-righteousness ease away some of the pain. The sounds that followed were a satisfying mix of crunches, liquid squishes and gurgles of pain.

That time Chris did bite his lip hard enough to make it bleed and still couldn't suppress the whimpers of pain that escaped him as he struggled to fight back against Shadow. He couldn't concentrate enough to absorb energy and that left him only one choice. He managed to get away from Shadow then sprinted for the nearest power relay for the training room. He ripped off the cover and yanked a cable loose. Electricity buzzed through his system and he roared in a mix of pain and exhilaration at the sudden gain of power.

In the meantime, Mick had pulled himself up again and he let out a groan of annoyance when once again the fucker got away from Shadow. This was getting ridiculous, not to mention frustrating beyond belief. Grumbling under his breath, he pushed his mind fully into Shadow and, secure into the projection's invulnerability, he launched himself at Chris again. When Shadow's fists connected his Chris, he could feel the electricity crackling and knew then they were heading for an extended fight, which suited him perfectly. He doubled his punches and kicks.

Now fully powered, almost overpowered, Chris didn't feel a single one of Mick's blows land. The energy buzzed through his system and with a roar of fury he ignored Shadow completely and went right for Mick. He threw a sizzling bolt of energy at his team mate then used his increased strength to launch himself into the air and then dive straight for Mick.

Because Shadow couldn't fly, there was only one thing Mick could do to protect his currently defenceless body. With a grunt of effort he pushed out and expended the force-field that allowed Shadow to interact with the world. 

He had only been aiming to keep Chris's furious energy blast away, but he suddenly realised it would be much more efficient to trap his team mate into it. He didn't know how long he'd be able to keep it, but for the time being he had effectively trapped Chris in a bubble he couldn't get out of.

However, even though they had worked together on many missions Chris knew that Mick had never experienced him in an overpowered state. He never let himself get there because it affected his mind. Therefore, when he released a massive shockwave of energy the bubble around him burst and he immediately launched himself at Mick. He formed brass knuckles on his fist with solidified energy and thrust it at Mick not caring where he hit.

At this point, even if it wasn't clear to Chris yet, Mick knew he was fucked. His powers were supremely effective as long as he was attacking, but forced into a defensive stand there was precious little he could. Chris bursting his force field had been like an explosion in his mind, he'd need rest before he could manifest Shadow again.

He wasn't going down without a fight though. He spit out the blood from the busted lip Chris's latest attack had earned him and rushed the other man, aiming for his stomach and knees.

Chris blocked the attack to his knee, not willing to risk that injury, and grabbed Mick's wrist. He twisted at the same time as he jerked Mick forward into a knee strike.

The knee should have winded Mick even without any extra power behind it. But somehow Chris found himself on the ground without any idea how he got there. He rolled before Mick could stomp on him and got to his feet.

"Ready to give up? I don't really want to hurt you."

A few minutes earlier, Mick had been absolutely ready to give up, possibly even somewhat gracefully admit defeat, but this was adding insult to injury. He was not stopping because of some badly placed pity! With another roar, he dived on Chris, driving him to the ground and raining hits on his shoulders, face and chest. 

"Not fucking hurting me? You fucking idiot already did that!"

Chris took several hits before he grabbed Mick’s fist and using enhanced strength twisted it roughly, but stopped before it popped. He then used his other hand to swing a punch at Mick's chest to knock him off. He followed, scrambling to get into a position to pin Mick down.

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

From where he was lying Mick reached up, grabbed Chris's shirt and pulled him down with a viciously hard shirt neck grip. 

"You fucking kidding me? You been training aiming for as long as I have, I know for a fucking fact you don't miss at such close range! You meant to do that! You're fucking jealous, everybody knows it! Now you fucking need to work it out!"

"What the fuck do I have to be jealous of, Mick? Your great shadow powers? Look how easily I fucked that up." 

He grabbed Mick's wrist and squeezed hard as he pulled it away. That grab had been too close to his throat for comfort. He fought Mick's arms back to the ground then moved so that his knees pinned both Mick's arms to the ground. 

"Accidents happen you jerk! Besides, what the fuck were you doing in my line of sight after I specifically called for everyone to duck? You made the fucking mistake, not me."

There Mick realised two things, first that Chris just wouldn't admit defeat, second that he would have to spell things out. He stopped struggling and smirked up at the older man.

"Now that's rich! I did duck you idiot! I also happen to be sharing the bed of the guy you've been lusting after ever since you joined in..."

Chris snorted. 

"What? You think I tried to take you out so I could have James? He's my friend and so are you, believe it or not. If you're happy together then that's good enough for me." He shifted slightly, uncomfortable with his position. "Now, can we get back to just sparring or do I have to end this?"

Mick gave him a dirty look. 

"As you so cleverly pointed out, you fucked me up. And if you can't even admit to yourself that that was no accident, then just end it, honestly."

Chris growled and leaned down. 

"You really think I want to get you out of the way? If that's true then I wouldn't do this." With that he raised both arms and allowed his absorbed energy to blast out into the air. The atmosphere became supercharged for a moment before it dissipated. "Now do you believe me?"

"Very pretty... What's that supposed to prove?"

"If I wanted you out of the way I could have done it just now. You're pinned beneath me and helpless. It wouldn't take much to just finish you off."

Mick couldn't help sniggering. 

"Why yes, right here in the middle of a sparring session, with everyone else watching us? Would you even have the guts to imagine doing something like that Chris? You're one of the good guys, remember?"

Chris smirked then, eyes darkening. "You may have forgotten, but I wasn't always one of the good guys. I've probably killed more times than you ever have. But you're right, killing you wouldn't earn me any points."

He leaned back and studied Mick for a moment. Then his eyes shifted to where he knew everyone was gathered to watch the sparring match. He didn't think things were working out the way Shawn wanted them to. But he didn't care now. Mick had done more than just call him a liar. Mick had insinuated that he was some kind of goody two shoes and that was insulting.

"Y'know Mick, maybe you need a reminder of what I'm capable of doing. Or what about James? Maybe since my plan to get rid of you failed I should just take what I want."

Some distant voice inside Mick's head insisted that Chris only said that to get a reaction from him, and if Chris's idea hadn't worked he would have identified Shawn, but as it was Mick just saw red, shut the voice from him and bucked up violently enough to unbalance Chris. He didn't think about clean or careful, he wanted one thing: to get at Chris's throat and make him take away those words, and beg. He rolled them around, relying on instincts and the sheer strength in his bulk to get Chris by the neck.

Chris didn't have time to think about the wisdom of what he'd said as Mick went for his throat. Instead he managed to get both feet into Mick's stomach and kick him off. He got to his feet and lunged forward with a kick aimed for Mick's side.

Mick took the kick square in and didn't budge. He ignored the bone-jarring pain, grabbed Chris's leg and pulled it up, while aiming a kick at Chris's other knee, intending to kick him off his remaining foot.

There wasn't anything Chris could do to avoid the kick aimed at his knee. The breath whooshed out of him as he hit the floor and then kicked at Mick's hand that still held his other leg. The grip was like a vice and he couldn't change positions for a more aggressive attack until Mick's grip broke.

But somehow, Mick didn't feel the pain. Sure he'd heard something snap in his hand, but he didn't let go, he kept pulling until he had a good enough opening and then he kicked Chris in the balls as hard as he good, three fast violent kicks in succession., muttering under his breath "Think you'll manage now?"

Chris instinctive reaction was to curl up and protect himself. The pain blinded him for too long and his struggles to get away ceased. By the time the thought that he should move and get away entered his mind it was too late. His defences had been dropped too long and he suddenly thought that provoking Mick might not have been the best idea. Mick was the better brawler where Chris flourished in power fights.

It was easy that time, to drop down on his knees straddling over Chris's chest and to grip his neck in one powerful hand, the one that wasn't throbbing. Then he only had to squeeze and watch that fucking self-satisfied smile disappear. 

Mick was watching intently into Chris's eyes, the small veins that were slowly popping in the whites and listening to his breathing getting more and more difficult, when the door opened and James ran in.

Chris took huge gasping breaths as Mick was torn off him. One hand went to hold his throbbing throat as he watched the rest of the team enter. Shawn walked over, hauled him up and threw him into Paul's arms. He was held tightly as their leader stood before him. Chris winced at the furious look on the older man's face.

"You're walking a very thin line right now, Chris. You should know better than to say the shit you did," Shawn growled. "You're lucky to even be on this team rather than in prison. Don't push your luck."

As for away as the room allowed, Mick found himself pinned against the wall by a very pissed off James. There wasn't anything else to do but let James access his thoughts through the link Shawn had offered them and hope the taller man would judge he was ok. A migraine started above his left eye, James wasn't trying to be careful, and he could feel now the pain radiating up the broken bone in his hand. 

Eventually; James let go of him, and the migraine receded. Mick could feel the bitter disappointment swirling into his man's head but he knew he'd passed this one. Cradling his hand, he turned his attention to the reason of this whole mess.

"I didn't mean what I said," Chris argued. "Well, not all of it."

"You shouldn't have said any of it," Shawn retorted. "You two shouldn't be trying to provoke one another."

Chris scowled and shot a glare at Mick. 

"He's the one that started it."

"Now you just sound like a spoiled brat," Paul admonished.

"And I plan on giving him a piece of my mind too," Shawn added, turning his head to look at his other team mate.

Mick rolled his eyes, blatantly defying Shawn. The headache came back full force and he winced, forced to look down.

"And you should know better than to react in such a way, when you know perfectly well you have no reason to! That's stupid on top of insulting to James!"

Mick opened his mouth to answer but Shawn continued. 

"You've always been part of this team, you know what we've all been through, how can you be stupid enough to fall for those taunts, or worse how can you be devious enough to attack him and think this'll be ok? Are you out of your mind? Did you forget where and who we are? What we do? Why we do it?"

Mick had nothing to answer to that. Of course he hadn't forgotten any of this, but Chris's constant, if fairly pathetic, attempts to get rid of him had finally eroded his patience.

Chris felt just a little satisfaction come over him as Shawn gave Mick a dressing down too. However, he couldn't feel too good with some of the team still glaring at him. And Shawn pointing out that Mick had been with the team since the beginning kind of struck a nerve. Chris had only been with the team for not even quite a year and was still earning his place. He knew at least two members of the team still treated him like a bad guy. And at one point he deserved that title, but he hated to still feel like an outsider on a team that needed to trust each other in order to survive. Sometimes he wondered if he had made a mistake joining a team.

"You two need to get your acts together before you get someone hurt," Shawn snapped.

Mick was opening his mouth again and again he was interrupted, but this time it wasn't Shawn yelling at him some more it was the emergency alarm and this could only mean one thing: they were under attack. 

Without words, they all assumed fighting stances around Shawn, waiting for him to confirm where to direct their defensive efforts. The word that Shawn projected into their minds shocked them all : the med bay.

Chris bolted out of the room with the rest of the group. It wasn't easy for him to gather energy as he moved, but it was possible. He regretted releasing it all earlier. He would have been powered up and ready for a fight. Instead he only had the amount of time it took to get from the training room to the med bay and that wasn't long.

"We're not going to get there in time," Sid exclaimed as they ran.

"The hell we won't," Shawn retorted. "Those bastards aren't killing any of our team mates in OUR base!"

Arriving at the med bay Chris was surprised to find Corey holding off a group of forty Outlanders with a shield. Chris could see by the flickering blue colour that Corey was almost out of power. With a roar of anger Chris threw every ounce of his power straight down the line of Outlanders. The first line of the gray-sknnned shark creatures fell, but there were still plenty left to turn and charge the group.

Mick had run with the others and grabbed a blaster, Shadow may have been out for the count, but he wasn't beaten yet. While the others attacked, following the usual telepathic instructions Shawn broadcast to the whole group, he fell in behind James for cover and opened his blaster on the beasts. 

From experience he knew to aim for their eyes, or rather the oddly shaped opening that experience had taught them was how their enemies saw. The blaster wasn't powerful enough to take them out, at the most he could make sure the Outlanders were too occupied to figure out Chris and Paul were the only dangerous ones. Fleetingly, he considered getting his revenge now and 'missing his target' with the blaster.

Throwing all his energy had been as mistake, but Chris was nothing if not resourceful. He had to be when he was an assassin. So he ducked and dodged all the Outlanders that couldn't help him and instead dove for one armed with a electro-pole. With a malicious grin Chris latched onto the sizzling end and for effect roared as he was filled with energy once more. He knew if the Outlander could have looked scared it would have just before he blasted its head right off.

Focused on keeping the Outlanders confused enough that they didn't realize they were so badly outnumbering them, Mick kept aiming for eyes, fingers, ears. In front of him, James was less careful, but he was also focusing on remaining as dense as diamond to cover them both. In the middle of the fight, Paul was covering Chris's ass as much as possible considering the insane risks the other man kept taking. 

Chris always loved the thrill he got from killing. Whether it was as a hired killer or as part of some kind of super team fighting dimension hopping bad guys, it made no difference. Killing was killing and he lived for it, thrived on it. And once he started it was so hard to stop.

 _Chris, calm down_. He could hear Shawn in his mind. _You're going to get yourself killed._

Chris ignored him. He fired bolts of energy at the Outlanders, cutting them in half or blowing holes in them. But he was using too much energy too quickly. And the bloodlust was beginning to get to his head. He was in the middle of a huge pack of Outlanders before he even realized what was happening.

Paul had trouble keeping up with Chris, he wasn't as bloodthirsty as his team mate, and he had to keep an eye out so Chris didn't blast him into next week. Surprisingly, things weren't going too bad for them, thanks to Chris clearly. With a triumphant feeling, Paul made his way towards the door of the med-bay. He couldn't cover Chris correctly, but he should be able to keep their injured safe.

James and Mick on the other side had fallen into a perfectly synchronized use of the blasters. They kept the Outlanders around Chris occupied enough that he wasn't in too much danger in spite of his position. 

It was working well enough until Paul moved. For a moment they both lost Chris and kept blasting blindly. Later, Mick would never know for sure if he'd consciously aimed that particular blast. All he knew was that he had suddenly fired at the ceiling, taking out a huge chunk of metal that had dropped straight into the melee.

It happened so fast. One minute he was tearing down the Outlanders. The next something tremendously heavy had him pinned to the ground with one arm under him in a painful way. He twisted his head just enough to see what was obviously a piece of the metal ceiling had fallen on him. He was lucky he was powered up when it happened or it likely would have killed him.

And now he had to stay powered or the metal would crush him. He couldn't risk using anymore of his energy until someone could free him. Instead he watched helplessly as the Outlanders he had been slaughtering realized their tormentor was in a precarious position.

One of Sid's dupes lunged onto the back of the Outlander closest to Chris and promptly exploded in a bright flash that took out the Outlander behind the first and scorched the one beside. But there were more Outlanders moving forward and Chris was feeling like maybe he should have kept better control of himself.

Feeling frustration and fear battling within him, Mick didn't pause to think and dashed at the group of Outlanders closing in on Chris. He was lucky James followed him because in his current state he wouldn't have lasted more than a handful of seconds. 

Together, getting more Outlanders out with vicious hits and kicks, they managed to make their way to Chris. Mick hadn't really considered what they would find, but he was relieved when he saw Chris wasn't badly injured. The problem now was to get him out.   
There had been a time when Chris had been a loner. He hadn't wanted or needed anyone. But then he'd been given the choice of prison or redemption and of course chosen redemption. He’d met his new team. And they worked themselves into a place where no human had been in a long time. He cared for them and he was terrified for them as he saw Mick and James wading through the Outlanders to his side.

"Don't worry about me dammit, get back to the line," Chris growled, meaning the line of defence keeping the Outlanders out of the med bay where their injured team mates lay.

"Just shut up and stay alive!" was all Mick could say between getting rid of more Outlanders. 

Knowing that Mick was keeping them as safe as possible, James crouched down next to Chris. It would have been easier if he could make himself intangible, but he'd have to make do with the strength he got from being so dense. It took him shorter than he had anticipated, the chunk of ceiling was heavy, but it was only one block. It was mostly a matter of moving it without hurting Chris.

Once Chris was free he got to his feet with James's help and then aimed a powerful blast at the Outlanders swarming Mick. And then hesitated. The last time he had tried to watch Mick's back he'd shot his team mate. What if he did it again? Then they'd really think he was aiming for Mick.

Instead he moved forward and decided to use his power in the other way it was useful. He grabbed Mick's shoulder and then used his energy to re-invigorate Mick's own powers. With that done Chris turned his attention to the Outlanders. He formed a ball of energy in his hand and then tossed it into the middle of the swarm causing an explosion like a grenade.

It took Mick embarrassingly long to piece out what Chris had done, but he didn't need long to get Shadow out and fighting. With him they finally tilted the fight in their favour. There were more Outlanders out of it now, though the growing number of bodies made more it difficult to manoeuvre. 

What had been the line of defence became an offensive line as the whole team made a push forward. The outnumbered Outlanders struggled, but realized the mistake they had made. An inhuman screech ripped the air and then the shark-like creatures began to pull back. A rip in the fabric of reality appeared out of nowhere and the Outlanders retreated through it, the same way they’d come in. 

To give them incentive Chris unleashed all his energy in a great shockwave the knocked them all in. He then promptly collapsed to his knees, exhausted from the amount of power he had been using.

"Dammit Chris, you could have gotten yourself killed," Shawn bellowed as he stomped over to the younger man. "You could have gotten someone else killed!"

"Back off," Chris growled. "I don't need you lecturing me right now."

Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but Paul held him back. 

"Don't. Just leave it for now."

A few feet away, Mick would have been gleeful at the exchange, except about 30 seconds after Chris had powered him up again, pain had started to pulse within his body, excruciating, sharp pulsing pain. It started from the base of his skull and radiated down his spine and up his brain, the only thing he was still conscious of was that the Outlanders were gone, so he could pass out. With a low gurgle of pain he called for James and fell to the ground face first.

When Mick passed out there was a desperate rush to his side. Chris was the only one who didn't move. He stood still, staring at his fallen team mate. 

Without a word, he turned and walked away. He passed the med bay and headed as far away from his team mates as possible. He needed to think. After everything that had just happened he had to wonder if it was worth it. Maybe he was better off on his own doing what he used to.

He wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, too absorbed in his thoughts. He was wondering how exactly he could manage to evade the authorities long enough to secure his position back when he almost walked straight through Craig.

The guy had freaky blue eyes that could see through everything, people included it sometimes seemed, and Chris wasn't altogether comfortable around him. He made a motion backwards, nodding in apologies at the same time, but the smaller man caught his wrist.

"I think you wanna come with me."

Chris snorted and pulled his hand free. "And why's that?"

Craig grinned. "I have beer, and stronger stuff if you want."

That was an appealing thought, but he knew what Craig was up to. It was the usual "get Chris drunk and get him talking" ploy that always worked. Worked because the alcohol made talking worth it. For a moment he debated about whether he really wanted to talk or if he still wanted to leave. He could always still leave after the alcohol.

"Alright, lead on." 

Craig nodded and stepped in front of him, leading him back towards one of the less used so-called playrooms, not that they kept games in there but the name had stuck after a stupid inside joke. Chris was surprised to see that Craig had pretty much made the place his own, there were books all over the place, a couple of ancient looking sofas and a table in between. 

Craig motioned for him to sit while he went to get the alcohol from the fridge. He put beers, vodka and tequila on the table. 

"Hope you won't mind, don't have glasses..."

Chris shrugged and grabbed the bottle of tequila.

He took a good healthy swig and then a second. He stopped before he took a third. Craig was drinking one of the beers and staring at him the whole time. The guy really made his skin crawl when he did that. It was like he could see everything Chris was thinking and feeling.

"What?" Chris demanded before taking that third swig.

The corner of Craig's lip lifted somewhat on the left, making Chris want to either scream or blast him out of existence. Instead he took another healthy swig of tequila. 

"So, what's happened this time?"

"What're you talking about?"

Craig rolled his eyes, took a swig of beer and answered. 

"Why are you running around on your own, practically broadcasting how much you want to leave... again...?"

Chris debated about lying. Then Craig would just go to someone else, probably Shawn, and he would find himself confined to his room. Leaving the team would make him a felon again and they all knew it. Since he was caught the better option was to just talk. He took a drink of tequila.

"I think it'll be better for the team. There's too much tension between some of us..."

This time Craig didn't smirk, he nodded encouragingly, waiting for more. There was no point in interrupting now.

Chris took a really long drink of tequila. He hated this being open shit that Shawn pushed. It wasn't easy for him to talk about things. Especially if they tied into his emotions in any way.

"The fact that I'm on the team has always been a source of tension. Mick has hated me since day one, with good reason, and it's never going to get any easier. None of you were bad guys before, but I was and everyone knows that."

Looking at his team mate, Craig could see the warmth of alcohol spreading through him and the tension in his chest that wasn't letting up. He would have indulged in a sigh if he hadn't known how Chris would take it, instead he finished his beer and gathered his energy. He hated talking.

"Y'know, you're wrong on that one: some of us weren't all that 'good' to begin with. But honestly, what's the deal with that good, bad bullshit? Really, you think we care about that still? You've been part of this for almost a year... that's longer than some of our current team mate have been in case you didn't notice... You're fucking good at what you do, you stay alive and you generally do not put others in danger. What else can we ask for? For all intents and purposes most of us think of you as one of us!"

Chris stared at Craig for a moment, trying to determine his sincerity. Unable to really tell, he sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"Then how come Shawn's always so quick to jump my ass about everything?" he asked. "And why does Mick honestly believe I'd hurt him on purpose so I could have James?"

Staring back, Craig made a face. 

"Because Mick is jealous, not entirely without reason too... As for Shawn... Well, it's because you keep expecting him to. Like your expectations keep pulling him in..."

"So I'm projecting expectations onto Shawn and he's just...following through? Huh, so, if I start projecting wishes for a pay raise he might follow through?"

Craig sniggered. "Didn't know you were getting paid, but you can try..." 

"Okay, how about the wish to be paid then, Mr. Smartypants," he paused, growing serious again. "What do I do about Mick?"

Craig stopped smiling and shrugged. "I don't know... ignore him, I guess. Or stay out of his way..."

Chris snorted. "Yeah, stay out of his way in an underground base that isn't that big....I don't know how to deal with this situation, Craig. My solution to that kind of thing would have been to just kill him and be done with it, but he's my team mate now."

Tilting his head, Craig pondered for a moment, then grabbed another beer and spoke with casual ease. 

"Well, if you're such a bad guy, then do it. I'm sure you can take the consequences..."

For some reason Craig's words struck a nerve and Chris sucked down a good portion of the tequila despite the fact he knew he'd regret it in the morning. He frowned and shifted in his seat, thinking. He had been insulted earlier when Mick implied he was a goody-two shoes...but then what was he if the thought of killing one of his team mates made his stomach twist. Did that make him weak?

"I can't do that," he admitted. "Before...I'd never had any kind of team mates, partners, or anything like that. When I worked alone I never imagined what it would feel like to be a part of a team."

Craig nodded as he took a swig of beer. 

"Believe me I know how that feels." He stopped and gave Chris a meaningful look. "Actually I probably still get it more than you do, the need for loneliness... If it helps, you can always try and find somewhere to stay on your own, Shawn's good at keeping people away."

"You mean outside this base? I'm still on probation for another year and a half, man. I can't go anywhere that's not a direct order from Shawn. As much as I might sometimes want my privacy and to work alone again it's not worth being hunted again. Not when I've got it pretty good here." He sighed again and grabbed one of the beers. "Maybe I should try and talk to Mick?"

Knowing he wasn't going to get through all of Chris's barriers in one night Craig nodded a little dubiously. 

"You probably should make sure James or Paul are there too... Mick's not the most subtle guy around here."

Chris laughed. "That's an understatement." 

Craig nodded and chuckled with Chris. He then downed his beer in one long swig before standing up purposefully. 

"I think I’m gonna hit the sack now... Feel free to finish the tequila."

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Chris feeling a little bemused at how abrupt that had been. He sat and continued to think about everything Craig had said and about the events of the day. Maybe his situation wasn't perfect, but nothing in life ever was.

  
[the end]


End file.
